


The Naked Anders

by Rhube



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Kidnapping, M/M, Nakedness, Nudity, Past Rape/Non-con, drugged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhube/pseuds/Rhube
Summary: Fenris finds Anders wandering Hightown in the nude and very confused. He's clearly been drugged, but doesn't remember what happened. Fenris takes him back to the mansion and tries to find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write about Anders being naked and I thought this would be short and sweet, but it seems it's not done yet. Anyway, enjoy Fenris trying to deal with a blissed-up Anders without any of his usual inhibitions.
> 
> (Note: Fenris is not going to take advantage of Anders.)

When Fenris got up that morning, he had not expected that the first thing he would see on leaving the mansion was the apostate wandering naked through Hightown.

He did not recognise the man at first. Truly, Anders cut a striking figure, sauntering through the long shadows and cool morning air, but it was not a view of the mage Fenris was accustomed to.

His most immediate impression was of a tall man with messy blonde hair, loose around his shoulders, his back a mess of scars, and his buttocks round and pert. The image caused a confusing mixture of arousal and concern. Fenris squashed down the former to focus on the latter. If the marks on this man's back had any connection to his nakedness, he could be in real trouble.

Fenris strode forward to catch up to the man - an easy task, as his gait was uneven and somewhat weaving.

"Serrah," Fenris said as he neared him. "Are you alright?"

"Mmm?" The man turned to face him, and Fenris stopped dead in his tracks - the golden eyes, long nose, and freckled skin all too familiar. A broad smile spread across the mage's face. "Fenris!" he said, spreading his hands wide in greeting, apparently unconcerned by his lack of clothes. "So good to see you!" He looked hazily around him. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"I..." Fenris had no idea what to say to that.

"Do you know," Anders went on, turning in a slow circle, looking at the tall stone buildings around him. "I have not even the slightest idea how I got here? Isn't that funny?"

Fenris focused hard on Anders' face, trying to ignore quite how _very_ naked the man was. Refusing to take in what, from the edge of his vision, looked to be a surprisingly shapely chest. "Anders," he said, awkwardly. "Are you aware that... you are not wearing any clothes?"

"Oh," Anders looked down, and without even thinking, Fenris followed his gaze. He looked back up immediately, but not before his eyes had confirmed that, yes, the man had a remarkably well-toned body for a mage, as well as a not-inconsiderably sized cock. Heat rushed to Fenris's cheeks as Anders met his eyes again. "So I am," the mage said, cheerfully. "I wonder how that happened. Still," he wrinkled his nose and smiled again, "I can't say I regret it. It's really very comfortable. I wonder," he frowned, as though considering the matter seriously, "do you really think we _need_ clothes? Maybe you should take off yours. How does this work, anyway?"

As Anders began plucking ineffectually at Fenris's armour, a sense of reality came crashing back in and he caught the mage's hand.

"We wear clothes," Fenris said, trying to hold the mage's eyes, "at least in part not to get arrested by the guards. And I need this armour so I don't get murdered in the streets."

Anders seemed to think about his words for a few moments, and then he snorted and started giggling. "No," he said, through the laughter. "That doesn't - that doesn't make any sense at all. Why... why would the guards care? Come on." He tugged on Fenris's pauldron, which he seemed to find especially funny. "It's so _pointy_ ," he said. "Oh come on - come on, _really_ , no one needs... needs to be wearing something this pointy!"

The mage was half leaning on him now, nearly crying with laughter. He was definitely not himself. And he was lucky not to have been found by someone else. Being arrested by the guard for indecency was probably the _best_ outcome he could hope for, wandering the streets of Kirkwall in the nude.

Whatever their differences, Fenris could not leave him alone like this. Taking Anders by the shoulders, he steered him around in the direction of the dilapidated mansion.

"Where are we going?" Anders said, not really resisting.

"Somewhere you won't get us both arrested," Fenris said, fumbling open the door and shoving the mage inside.

Anders huffed as Fenris closed the door behind them. "It's dark in here, and it smells. And it's not nearly so sunny." He frowned for a moment, then turned and walked decisively towards the door. "I liked it better out there."

"No!" Fenris said, taking him by the shoulders again. "You're staying in here at least until I find you something to wear."

Anders groaned petulantly, but allowed himself to be led deeper into the mansion. He was unnervingly persuadable. Together with the lack of clothes, it was suggestive of something Fenris did not care to think about.

"Anders," he said, "what happened? Can you remember?"

"You took me inside!" Anders complained.

Fenris sighed and led the man over to a chair in his main hall. "Yes. Before that. What happened before I found you?"

Anders was staring over Fenris's arm, to one side. "Is that a dead body? Maker - Fenris - I think that's a dead body. Why have you got dead bodies in here? That's _unsanitary_. We should move those." He made as though to get up, but Fenris pressed him down into the seat again.

"Ignore that," he said. "Try to think about what you can remember."

"I will _not_ ignore it," Anders said, his face pulled into an exaggerated expression of shock. "Do you have any idea - the _disease_. People do this in Darktown. They just _leave things_ \- dead things - _everywhere_. And then _everybody_ wonders why all the people get sick. And where do you think they go when they're sick, Fenris? Where do you think they go?" He lowered his chin to his chest and looked up at Fenris with wide eyes. " _Where_ _?_ "

Fenris cleared his throat. The bodies were clearly going to be too much of a distraction.

"Alright," he said. "We'll go upstairs. It's cleaner up there."

" _Thank you_ ," Anders said, pushing himself to his feet without waiting for Fenris to get out of the way, their chests colliding together.

Anders giggled as he rebounded off Fenris and started to fall back into the chair again. Fenris caught him and held him still until he was sure the man had regained his balance.

"Anders, look at me," Fenris said.

Anders smirked, barely containing a laugh, but obeyed him.

"I'm going to take you upstairs, but you're going to need to go first, so I can catch you if you fall, alright?"

Anders held his gaze, but said nothing.

"Alright?" he prompted.

Anders sighed. "You have pretty eyes," he said, raising a hand to stroke Fenris's cheek.

Fenris cleared his throat and settled for simply turning Anders around and marching him towards the stairs.

"I did hear you, you know," Anders said, pulling out of Fenris's grasp. "I can walk myself. I just think you have pretty eyes, and I thought you should know."

"OK." He let the man walk ahead of him.

"Do you know?" Anders said, turning around and walking backwards.

"Ah," Fenris said, flustered. "I think this is something we can discuss at the top of the stairs."

Anders grunted, but turned back and finally started up the steps. "I _suppose_."

Thankfully, by the time they reached the landing, Anders appeared to have forgotten his question, and with a bit of guidance he made it through to Fenris's room and was persuaded to sit down on the bed while Fenris sorted through his clothes to see if anything would fit.

Anders laughed, taking up a discarded pair of leggings. "These are _much_ too small!" He experimentally began putting his foot down one of the legs and Fenris was forced to snatch it off him. "But how do you fit _in_ there?" he asked. "You have so many _muscles_."

Fenris ignored the question. Unfortunately, the mage was right. Nothing he owned was going to fit a human as tall as Anders. He'd hoped to find a baggy tunic or cloak or _something_ that would do, but really, Anders was too broad as well as too tall, and very little that Fenris wore was actually baggy.

"Stay here," Fenris said, not entirely sure why he bothered, given how little Anders seemed to be inclined to listen in his current state.

 Fortunately, this time, Anders merely sighed and flopped back on the bed.

Moving swiftly, Fenris went to the room next door and threw open the wardrobe. Humans had lived here before; surely something would fit. A large shirt. Some baggy trousers. Fenris grabbed several pairs of each and hoped that something would do.

What he saw when he returned to his bedroom made him drop the lot.

Anders was lying, sprawled on the bed where Fenris had left him, slowly rubbing his hardening cock.

"Anders, would you - would you please... stop...?"

"Mmm?" The mage's eyes met his, and a slow smile spread across his face.

He did not stop.

Crossing to the bed, Fenris grabbed hold of the mage's arms and pinned them above his head.

"Hi," Anders said, breathlessly. Then he surprised Fenris by sitting up - pressing their faces together, his lips catching Fenris's lips.

For one brief moment, Fenris was too shocked to move. The touch of warm lips upon his - the proximity of what he was forced to concede was the not unattractive naked form of the mage - a part of him wanted to press into that kiss.

He did not.

Pulling back, Fenris grabbed the sheet off his bed and pulled it over Anders' naked body.

"Do _not_ try that again," he said.

Groaning, Anders flopped back on the bed. " _Fine_ ," he said. "I just thought you wanted to join in."

"Well I don't," Fenris said, shortly. "And I don't want you playing with yourself, either. Here." He threw a shirt and pair of trousers at the mage.

The mage made a disgusted noise. "They smell, Fenris!"

"I don't care," he said. "Put them on, or I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

"Ugh," Anders said. "Fine!"

Fenris turned his back as Anders threw the cover back again and began to dress, not eager to see more than he had to of the man's softening cock. It was somewhat remarkable how easily the mage had obeyed him, even though getting dressed in the discarded clothes Fenris had found him was clearly not what he wanted to do. It was obvious the man had been drugged, and Fenris didn't like the implications of what the effects of that drug seemed to be.

"Done," Anders said, sullenly, and Fenris was relieved to find that the mage was indeed fully clothed when Fenris turned back around.

"Good," Fenris said, sighing out some of the tension that had been building since he had found Anders naked on the street.

Sitting down next to him on the bed, Fenris asked, "Now, can you tell me, what was the last thing you remember before I found you wandering around outside?"

Anders looked down at his hands, picking at his fingers. "I was in the Rose, maybe?"

The brothel. Not a good sign. "What were you doing there?" he asked. "I thought you hated that place."

Anders sniffed. "I hate it at _night_. When all the patrons are there and they think I'm for hire." He squinted at Fenris. "You must have had that, too, surely? You're so pretty..."

"Anders," Fenris said, wanting to forestall that line of thought before the mage got distracted again.

Anders rolled his eyes. "Maybe it's because you're so moody. Anyway, when I do check-ups it's in the mornings. Mostly just the workers and the madam then."

Fenris frowned. "Check-ups?"

"Yeah," he said. "You know. For diseases?"

Oh. "So, you went to the Rose, and then what?"

Anders shrugged. "I think I left, but..." he frowned, then shook his head. "I don't really remember."

Something about this didn't add up, and it was more than the fact that the mage had clearly been drugged. And then it clicked together in Fenris's mind. "Does your demon not have something to say about this? Can he not tell something is wrong?"

Anders' frown deepened. "I... I can't feel him." He looked up into Fenris's eyes, a look of panic replacing the confusion that had been there before. "Fenris, I can't feel Justice. What's happened? What's happened to him?"

Perhaps he should not have brought attention to this. Panicked Anders might be even more difficult to deal with than confused or horny Anders. He took the man by the shoulders and tried to calm him. "It's alright. That's part of what I'm trying to find out, but I need you to think. OK? Anders?"

Anders closed his eyes, squeezing tears from their corners, but he nodded.

"Is there anything you know of that could make it hard for you to feel Justice? A potion, maybe?"

Anders sobbed and started to shake his head, but then paused, frowning. "Wait," he said, wiping the tears from his face with the palm of his hand. "Mage bane, maybe?"

 _Mage bane_. Fenris had heard of that. Danarius had made him carry an antidote for it at all times; although Fenris had no idea what might have been in such a potion. "OK," Fenris said. "That's a poison, isn't it?"

Anders was taking deep, slow breaths, trying to calm himself. He nodded. "You can coat weapons, or put it in a drink. It can be lethal in a high enough dose, but usually it's easier to disable a mage and kill them physically. It does take quite a lot to kill."

"Did you drink anything while at the Rose?" Fenris asked.

Anders shook his head, but said: "I don't know. I don't think so. But it... it's very unclear. I'm _sure_ I got outside."

"Maybe you did," Fenris said. "Maybe they were looking to take someone working at the Rose and only drugged you when they realised you were a mage."

"They?" Anders said, still struggling to follow Fenris's train of thought.

"Slavers, mage," Fenris said, gently. "You were drugged and stripped of your clothes. I think slavers tried to take you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris takes Anders to Hawke's where they find Aveline already with her...

Anders was more subdued as they ventured back out into the streets; although he seemed more bothered by the absence of Justice from his mind than the fact that he might have been taken by slavers. Which was perhaps a blessing, as the implications of them stripping him naked seemed lost on the mage as well.

Fortunately, he was also still very easily distracted.

"Hang on," he said as the door closed behind him. "If I'm wearing clothes, shouldn't I also be wearing shoes?"

Ah. The human obsession with confining one's feet. Fenris had forgotten.

"We aren't going far," Fenris said, shortly, tugging on Anders' arm to get him moving again.

Anders remained easily led, but not so easily silenced. "But what if there's broken glass?" he asked, following Fenris placidly.

"We are in High Town, mage, there is no broken glass."

"How do you know?" Anders replied. "There's broken glass _everywhere_ in Darktown. And sewage. And dirt. Dark dirt. Dark dirt in Darktown." He giggled.

"Well, it's a good thing we are not in Darktown," Fenris said, glad that it was only a short walk to Hawk'e house. He wasn't sure how long he could maintain the patience needed to field Anders' nonsense.

"I keep my clinic clean, though," Anders went on, oblivious. "A clean clinic close to the... clewars. No, OK. That one doesn't work. My heads a bit, ummm... bit fuzzy. You try."

"No."

"Uhhhhhh, you're so _boring_ ," Anders complained.

"What a shame!" Fenris declared. "But look, we're nearly at Hawke's house. Can you see the door?" He felt a little embarrassed at talking to Anders as though he were a child, but thankfully the distraction worked.

"Oh hey, yeah!" he said. "Wow! Those columns are _really_ big. I wonder how long those vines have been there. Did Hawke plant them? No, they're too big. She hasn't been there that long. Maybe the slavers planted them. Do you think some of them might have liked gardening? I suppose they might."

"I have no idea, mage," Fenris said, marvelling at Anders' ability to somehow find a worse topic of conversation. He pressed forward and knocked on Hawke's door.

"Good morning, messeres," Bodahn greeted them.

Fenris nodded to him. "Is Hawke in, we must speak with her."

"Messere Hawke is popular this morning," Bodahn replied. "She's just talking to the Guard Captain in the Library, but if you'd like to wait in the foyer I can get you some refreshments..."

"Aveline's here?" Fenris said, then strode past the dwarf without waiting for a response, pulling Anders after him. Perhaps Aveline would be able to track the slavers who had done this to Anders.

"Hawke!" he called, crossing quickly through the foyer and into the library.

Hawke turned from conversation with Aveline, a worried expression melting into one of intense relief as she took in Fenris and his companion.

"Anders!" she cried, pulling the man into a bear hug. "Thank the Maker! Where did you find him?"

Fenris's eyes flicked to Aveline, who was looking at them with more reserve. "He was wandering the streets naked. It didn't seem... wise. I take it you were aware he was missing."

Aveline cleared her throat. "We found his clothes in an abandoned house, surrounded by a dozen bodies. His coat is rather... distinctive."

"You see, Aveline?" Hawke said, pulling back from her hug. "I _told_ you there would be some explanation."

Aveline looked sceptical. "This, so far, is not an explanation. I still have twelve dead people. I'm sorry, Anders, I'm not unsympathetic to your cause, but you can't just go around killing people. If there's some-"

Hawke turned to face her. "Now, just a minute, Aveline-" she began.

"I didn't kill anyone," Anders protested. "I mean, I don't think... I mean, I suppose I must have killed quite a lot of people, when you think about it, but..."

"Anders, shut up," Fenris hissed, aware that the mage was not best placed to defend himself in his current state.

"No," Aveline said, glaring at Hawke and Fenris in turn. "Right now Anders is my only suspect and only witness in a multiple homicide. I need to hear what he has to say." She turned her gaze on Anders.

"Err," he said, looking nervously between Aveline and Fenris. "I'm not entirely..."

"He doesn't remember," Fenris said.

"Fenris!" Aveline snapped.

" _No_ , Aveline," he said, sharply. "You cannot question him now. He has been drugged. He is still drugged. He barely understands where he is or what he's saying, and someone removed his clothes. If you cannot deduce the obvious from that you do not deserve your position. But either way, he is in no condition to answer your questions right now."

The room had fallen silent around him, and Fenris realised he had shifted his stance as though to prepare for a fight.

Aveline held his gaze a moment longer, and then looked to Anders. "Is that true, Anders?" she asked. "You've been drugged?"

Fenris could hear Anders shifting behind him, but did not look away from Aveline.

"I mean, I can't feel Justice," he said, in a quiet voice. "And I don't remember. I was in the Rose, but then..."

"That's enough," Fenris said. "No more questions. Not until this clears from his system. He went to the Rose this morning. He thinks he left, but he doesn't remember. Why don't you ask _there_ for witnesses who might actually know what happened?"

Aveline considered his words. "Alright," she said. "But he is still a suspect. I will need to question him once he _is_ feeling himself. He stays _here_. And he will answer my questions later; if he's not here when I get back _you_ will answer for it, Fenris."

Fenris nodded.

"Can I have my coat?" Anders asked, breaking the grave silence that followed Aveline's words.

"What?" Aveline asked.

"You... said you had my coat," Anders replied. "Can I have it? These clothes kind of smell."

Aveline looked at him, incredulous. "No, you may not have your coat. It's evidence."

"Aveline..." Hawke began.

"He can have it back _if_   he's cleared of the crime. Not before," she said. "I'm already giving him substantial leeway, and you're asking me to give him the key piece of evidence that ties him to this crime. It's not going to happen."

Hawke sighed. "OK, fine," she said, smiling reassuringly at Anders. "How about I get Bodahn to make you some breakfast and I'll see if we have still have something of Carver's that will fit?"

Fenris turned to look at Anders and saw him wrinkle his nose. "Carver wears grumpy clothes," he said. "They're all... _grrr_."

Hawke rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I suppose they are. But they're clean, and I can send someone to pick up something from your clinic later, OK?"

Anders made a petulant sound. "I don't _have_ anything else. I have to get naked to wash things."

Hawke blinked. "Oh, well." She glanced at Aveline, but the guard captain shook her head, unwilling to budge. "Then I'll get you something from the market, OK? But for now, just... get something to eat and drink a lot of water, OK?" She looked to Fenris. "Can you watch him while I sort out some clothes?"

Fenris nodded. However he might feel about the man normally, he would look after him in this. He suspected Anders would need someone with him who understood once he came back to himself and faced the reality of what had happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders comes down from the drug and talks to Fenris about what may have happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussion of rape, but no actual rape.

The drug's high saw Anders most of the way through his breakfast, with the man cheerfully eating an amount of food Fenris never would have imagined he could put away. But as he was making his way through his fourth helping of scrambled eggs, his fork began to slow, and finally he put it down to rub his forehead.

Fenris caught his eye, and the mage looked uneasily away.

"I, umm, I think it's starting to clear from my system," he said, quietly.

Fenris refilled Anders' cup from the water jug and pushed it over. "You should drink more," he said.

Anders pursed his lips, but nodded. "Yes. Fine."

"It can help, when-"

"Yes," Anders snapped. "I'm a healer, Fenris. I know." Anders pushed back his plate, glaring at him. "Why are you doing this?"

Fernis frowned. "Doing what?"

"Being nice to me. Don't pretend like this is normal." Anders was fidgeting, rubbing the fingers of one hand together. "You'd be dancing if you thought I'd been taken by Templars. You wouldn't have lifted a finger. So I don't see why this is any different."

Something sank inside Fenris. As annoying as his cheerful prattle had been, Fenris had enjoyed not being at odds with the man. That he should shift to animosity so quickly... "Anders... I have not turned you in to the Templars. And... and this is different."

Anders glared at him, continuing to fidget, then looked away, rubbing a hand over his face and up into his hair, mussing it.

"You think I don't know what you think?" he asked, looking back. "What you've been _oh so subtly_ implying to Hawke and Aveline? Talking about me like I'm not even there?"

Anders was agitated now, and clearly upset. "Mage," he said, gently. "You are still not yourself. Whatever they gave you-"

" _I know_ ," he said again. "You think I don't understand what this drug is doing to me? You think I can't feel it? _Yes_ , Fenris. I'm coming down. And it's upsetting. I'm sure it's much less entertaining than when I was walking around the streets naked or _masturbating_ in front of you. But never mind. Plenty for you to gloat over later!"

"Mage, I..." he struggled for words. Anything he might say seemed liable to set Anders off. "None of that was entertaining for me. I was just..."

Anders gave a broken laugh. "Right. Me throwing myself at you. That must have been torture."

He stood abruptly, pushing his chair away from the table and going to stand in the corner of the room, facing away from Fenris. His shoulders shaking with small movements that Fenris suspected meant he was crying.

"Anders," he said, "Just tell me how I can help you."

Anders brushed at his face, taking deep, shaky breathes. "I don't know," he said, eventually. "Sorry. I don't know what they mixed with the mage bane, but, umm..." he trailed off.

"Orichalcum?" Fenris suggested, remembering one of the drugs given to slaves in Tevinter to make them more biddable.

Anders sighed. "Yes, probably." He turned and leaned back against the wall. His reddened eyes met Fenris's. "You think they raped me," he said. "That's what you were implying to Hawke and Aveline. That's why you're being so nice."

Fenris looked down at his feet. He had not expected the mage to be so blunt. "I don't know," he said. "Do you think that's what happened?"

Anders was quiet for a time, and when Fenris looked back up he was staring out the window. At last, he shook his head. "I don't think so," he said, but his smile was crooked and didn't reach his eyes. "I think I would... hurt more. In specific places." He sniffed and folded his arms, still looking out the window. "Have I lost your sympathy, now?" he asked, giving Fenris a look that spoke to pain and sorrow.

"No, mage," he said, quietly. "That was just my worst fear. I wouldn't have treated you any differently because of that."

Anders nodded and looked away.

"Is you magic coming back?" he asked, mostly to have something to say.

Anders shook his head. "No. Whatever they gave me, it was strong. I think I must have drunk it. I don't think I'm cut anywhere, and you can't get enough mage bane into a person for it to last this long if it's just smeared on a weapon. I really don't remember drinking anything, though."

"Perhaps you will remember more as it wears off," Fenris suggested.

"Maybe," the mage said, but he did not look convinced.

"Here," Fenris said, passing him the water cup. "Drink. It will help."

"Right," Anders said, but he did not refuse the cup this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders deals some more with his comedown and Hawke arrives with clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders' perspective this time! \0/
> 
> I think maybe two more chapters in this? But who knows! Certainly not me. *looks shifty*
> 
> (Apologies to those who saw the duplicate chapter post - AO3 was on the fritz when I posted.)

Anders sat with his cheek resting against the wood of Hawke's table, trying to cover his head with his arms. He didn't want to look at Fenris. He didn't want Fenris to look at him. He wanted to scrub this morning from his mind and his body and from everybody else's too.

Uncomfortable visions of himself: flirting with Fenris, rubbing himself in front of Fenris, trying to kiss Fenris while the elf was stiff and unresponsive. Walking around naked like an idiot.

And Fenris's words to Aveline: _If you cannot deduce the obvious from that you do not deserve your position._

 _Rape. He thinks I've been raped. Thought. Might still think._ Anders sighed and laced his fingers through his hair, wishing he had a tie for it.

He ran a mental inventory for the millionth time. His clothes stank of mildew and his feet were sore and dirty from walking around without shoes, but other than that, he didn't hurt. No telltale pain or rawness in his arse. No bruises consistent with being held down or forced.

 _What if I wasn't forced_ _?_ He couldn't help but wonder. He'd been so very willing to let Fenris do anything he wanted. _No,_ he told himself. _I'd still be able to tell_. But would he?

He groaned, then cringed as this prompted Fenris to clear his throat.

"Bodahn made some bacon," he said. "Or... perhaps some apple juice?"

He was trying. The blasted elf was trying, and Anders had already bitten his head off for it.

"No," he sighed out. "Please, just... leave me be."

His initial anger had petered out into this overwhelming malaise. Like he had sunk into a deep, dark hole - one he couldn't get out of.

Fenris was quiet after that. There were small noises that told of the elf eating and drinking, and Anders had to admit that the bacon did smell appealing - tempting - but Fenris didn't try to make Anders engage.

What broke his resolution to never sit up again was the sound out in the hall of someone approaching. And suddenly Anders was irrationally, impulsively terrified of being seen in this state by someone else.

He sat up and rubbed at his face in a futile attempt to remove the trace of tears. Perhaps simply looking red all over was better than the blotched tones of crying.

"Hi!" Hawke said as she entered. "Bodahn fed you OK?"

"Plentifully," Fenris said.

Anders avoided meeting either of their eyes, fiddling with the cuff of his borrowed shirt.

"Anders," Hawke said, and Anders sighed and looked up. She smiled with a kind of false cheerfulness that made him want to wince. "I got you two shirts and two pairs of trousers. The shirts are green like your coat - I hope that's OK. And I had to guess your size. I thought - maybe a bit smaller than Carver, but not lots? If they don't fit I can take them back and exchange them. I thought about getting you a robe, but-"

" _No_ ," Anders said, a little too firmly.

"Well, exactly," Hawke replied. "Don't want you looking like you belong in the Circle, do we?" She pulled a jumbled pile of clothes from her bag and held them out.

"Thank you," he said tiredly, and took them.

"You can use my room to change in," she added.

"Right."

He tried not to look at either of them as he passed by.

Once he was alone behind a closed door, Anders found he was as reluctant to remove the mildewed clothes as he had been to put them on. He didn't want to be naked again. As he had been before - an object ripe for ridicule. And he found he was worried about what he might find under the clothes. Bruises or cuts he had somehow missed in his drugged stupor, or something worse?

But Hawke and Fenris would be waiting for him.

Moving slowly, as under a great weight, he removed the old clothes and kicked them aside.

There was a tall mirror in one corner, and though he wanted to look away, he could not. He felt compelled to examine himself.

There was a mark on his arm. He touched it, and the flesh did feel tender. A bruise just forming.

Another over one hip bone. But, he told himself, it could have been caused by anything. It didn't have to have been a-

_-gauntleted hand holding him down, hard metal against his skin, the burn of a thread-bare rug as his back was rubbed along it-_

But no. That was an old memory. Long ago.

He turned and peered over his shoulder. There were no rug burns on his back. The only marks here were old. Nearly a decade old now.

He pulled on one of the new green shirts and a pair of plain brown trousers. They were a little loose, and the trousers a little short, but otherwise fine. Better than his others had been. And if he tucked the trousers into boots no one would be able to tell.

Boots. He should have asked Hawke for some boots. Was Carver likely to be his size?

He grimaced. Beggars could not be choosers, and if Aveline wouldn't return his clothes he'd have to wear something.

When he returned to the kitchen, he wore a rueful smile, but Hawke looked relieved.

"They suit you!" she said. "Green is a good colour for you."

He felt Fenris's eyes on him, too, but refused to meet them, looking down and away from them both.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry I was... difficult earlier. You didn't have to go buy something new. Anything of Carver's would have been fine."

She snorted. "Nonsense. You were right. Nothing he had would suit you at all."

He shrugged. "Yes, well, I'm hoping his boots will." He lifted one foot and risked meeting Hawke's eyes.

Hers widened. "Oh! I should have thought! Let me see what I've got." She rushed past him and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Was she eager to get away from the awkwardness, or just trying too hard to find ways to cheer him up?

That was probably unkind. Hawke was always trying to help; it was just her way.

Sighing, Anders sat down across from Fenris again and drank from the untouched glass of apple juice the elf had poured for him earlier.

Fenris cleared his throat as though to begin a conversation, but Anders interrupted him.

"Don't," he said. "I'm sorry. I don't have the energy. I hope you can understand that in a way Hawke probably won't." He briefly met Fenris's eyes.

_You have pretty eyes... Do you know?_

The elf nodded, and Anders looked away, shoving the memory down.

Hawke didn't take long to return, carrying in her arms a bundle of shoes in various states of disrepair and dumping them at Anders' feet.

He selected the set of boots that looked most likely and pulled them on. "Huh," he said in surprise. "They fit. That's a bit of luck."

Hawke smiled, looking relieved. "Oh," she said, "I am glad. I didn't know how we were going to explain to a vendor how you'd lost your shoes and didn't have any others - as you'd probably have to come with me for that, so..."

Anders raised his eyebrows. "It's a thing that happens more often than you'd think. People often don't have a spare pair in Darktown."

"Well..." she said, "I hadn't planned on going to Darktown for them. Anyway, now that's done, I've been thinking. You can stay here until things are sorted out, of course. I'll have Bodahn air out a room for you. In the meantime, my library is your library. You'll probably get more out of it than I do anyway, and-"

"Hawke," he interrupted. "I appreciate it, I really do, but I think Aveline's right."

"What?" It was Fenris who interrupted this time, and Anders turned an exasperated look on him.

"I don't mean about being a murder suspect. I mean, I really hope not. But I," he swallowed. "I want to know what happened. I... I don't like that I can't remember. So... if Aveline will let me, I'd like to see where it happened."

"I... don't know if that's a good idea," Fenris said, carefully.

"Why, because I'm a fragile little mage flower?" Anders said, acidly.

"You know that's not it," Fenris said, and Anders found he had to look away from those large green eyes again. Damn the man and his sudden sympathy.

"Yes," Anders said. "Well. Like I said. I don't like not knowing. I want to go."

Tension hung in the air between them for a few moments.

"If you're sure," Hawke said.

Anders nodded.

"OK," Hawke said. "I'll send a messenger to Aveline."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders returns to Aveline's crime scene, which stirs up some disturbing memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gore and graphic descriptions of bodies/past violence and non-con - archive warnings updated. Apologies for not flagging this earlier - I didn't know what had happened to Anders when I started writing this story or what would need to be shown.

Anders stood outside the door to the abandoned house, Fenris and Hawke on either side as Aveline looked at him questioningly.

His head was clearing. He still couldn't feel Justice, but he was starting to realise that not all of the discomfort he felt was the fault of the drug. He had a dull headache, and he'd found a spot on the back of his head that felt tender.

"Well, Anders," Aveline said, "We've been able to confirm that you left the Rose earlier this morning, but nothing else. If you remember anything, it would help, but... I should warn you: it's a mess in there."

"You don't have to do this," Fenris said. Anders could practically hear him frowning.

He sighed. "I already told you - I want to."

He stepped deliberately past Aveline and opened the door.

Two guards turned to look at him, and he felt their suspicion. Had Aveline told them he was the only suspect?

The entrance hall was dark and crowded with crates and clutter. He had the sense that a lot of goods passed through this house, and likely many were not legal. But he recognised nothing from this space.

"I don't..." he began, but Aveline gestured him further in.

"Over here, Anders."

As he followed, Anders started to encounter some of the carnage. Some of it was just blood splattered against the floor and over crates. But then there was a chunk of unidentifiable meat. And then an arm.

Anders had a horrible sinking feeling. As they came to the first full body, he was sure of it. The body hadn't just been shocked by lightning or stabbed with a sword - it looked like it had been ripped apart, its chest pulled open and raked through.

As sudden as a present sensation, Anders remembered the hot taste of warm flesh in his mouth, His stomach heaved reflexively and he turned to hurl four helpings worth of eggs onto the floor.

Fenris was yelling behind him: "I told you this was a bad idea. He isn't fit for this!"

_Coming to my defence again, you strange elf? If only you felt this way about the slavery mages endure in the Circle._

But Fenris's new-found caring side was barely a distraction. Anders' eyes combed the yellow-white slime for traces of something more sinister - the tell-tale sign of red raw flesh.

_Nothing. There's nothing. Oh, thank the Maker._

He straightened and wiped his mouth.

"I'm OK," he croaked out, though in truth he was feeling somewhat shaky from the shock and the effects of losing his breakfast on the flagstone floor. "I want to see further in."

"Anders," said Hawke, gently, "Maybe this was a bad idea. If you saw this happening, it might..."

He looked sharply at her, and she stopped. "I want to know," he said.

Looking a little more hesitant, Aveline led them further in, to where the way opened out from the stacked crates. Before them lay carnage. Flesh and guts strewn everywhere, bodies mangled and mixed and in some cases unrecognisable.

Distantly, as though through water, he heard Aveline say: "We only know there were twelve because we counted the heads."

"I know this," he heard himself say, distantly. "I know what this looks like."

A rich and rolling voice responded: "It looks like an abomination came through here."

 _Ah, there it is,_ Anders thought. _There goes your sympathy, Fenris._ _I knew it couldn't last long._

But of course Fenris recognised the signs of an abomination on a rampage. They had all seen it. Seen what one could do. Although, in Hawke's company abominations rarely had the time to cause this much destruction.

Anders had only seen this kind of unchecked destruction once before.

 _When we joined_ , he remembered, reaching desperately towards Justice and feeling only a tantalising flutter of connection.

_When we were newly formed as one being, and Rolan came at us..._

And they had killed Rolan. They had killed everyone. In those first moments of joining when they hadn't known their own strength. When Justice hadn't known how he would respond to Anders' rage and pain. When Anders had felt a river of power running through him and been propelled towards a fiery vengeance he hadn't even known he desired deep in his soul.

That was where the memory of human flesh in his mouth came from.

The worst moment of his life.

The moment when he had become, however fleetingly, what Fenris had always accused him of being.

Could it have happened again?

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he was dimly aware of Hawke asking: "Anders, are you OK? Do you want to leave?"

But it was overlaid with another hand - one that held him down as his head throbbed and some bitter tasting liquid was splashed onto his tongue.

_"A fucking mage - you had to jump a fucking mage!"_

_"Don't matter, Tad. Only took a bump on the head to knock him out and with this he'll be as willing as any other."_

_The hand on his shoulder lifted and another came down hard on his hip, pulling him over._

That had been when Anders had realised he was naked. That they had stripped him while he was unconcious, and then given him something to drink - something that was slowly deadening him inside.

He had reached frantically for Justice. _Help me! Help me, we have to escape! They're going to take me - like the Templars did, they -_

Memories within memories. A cold steel gauntlet pressing down just where the slaver's hand was on his hip. A rage and inhuman force rising up in answer to his fear, pressing all the harder to resist the walls of silence that were closing in around his connection to the Fade. And then...

Blood. Screaming.

Then nothing.

He was back to himself in the present. Hawke's hold had been replaced by Fenris's, and the elf was holding his gaze with deep green eyes.

 _You have such pretty eyes_ \- another echo. One that seemed foolish and inappropriate in the presence of all this carnage.

"You are here, you are safe," Fenris was saying, his voice calm and low.

Anders was trembling - violently - as though he had sat outside naked in a blizzard.

"I'll - I'll never be safe," he forced himself to say.

"Did you remember something?"

He nodded, and for a moment it was all he could do, but then he swallowed, and swallowed again, and found his voice.

"They, uh... I think they knocked me out. And I woke up here." He could see blurs of pink and red at the edges of his vision that he knew were bodies. His attackers. His victims. He closed his eyes."They were holding me down. They put the drug in my mouth. And - and then..."

And then memories mixed together. A warm hand on his hip and a cold gauntlet. A leg nudging his knees apart and Justice rising within him. A larger, older man forcing himself in rough and raw, hot breath in his face, and men being thrown back - lightning leaping between them - bodies pulled apart by force magic and his own fists, cut and fractured by the blue light of the Fade Spirit that dwelled within him.

He gasped out a sob. What could he say? _I'm everything you ever though I was. I'm an abomination. I killed them._ "I killed them all," he whispered, barely able to force the air out of his lungs.

Something of recognition flashed over Fenris's face, and then in a moment was gone.

"Did they force you?" he asked, quickly - his voice a low rumble meant only for Anders' ears.

Anders jerked his head. No. "I think they tried, but..." His eyes glanced quickly at the carnage, and then away.

Fenris nodded, and turned to Aveline, raising his voice for the others to hear. "They attacked him. Knocked him out. He came to as they were drugging him and defended himself."

Aveline took in a deep breath and sighed it out. "This doesn't look like self defence. Anders, I... I understand that you can defend yourself in ways that most people can't, but everyone who has seen this place thinks a monster must have done this. If I go back and say that one man did this in self defence... I may not be doing you a favour."

"So tell them a monster did it," Fenris said flatly. "One they brought here and whose wrath they brought on themselves. It would be the truth."

Anders shivered in the other man's grasp. Was Fenris defending him or accusing him?

Aveline sucked in her bottom lip, thinking. "I would need to explain what happened to Anders."

Fenris shrugged, releasing Anders. "He was drugged when they were killed and stumbled free after they were dead. He volunteered to come back here and vomited at the sight of the scene - he is a witness who co-operated, and I don't think he will look like a killer to your men. And if, as you say, they are expecting a monster, it will be easy to believe. One more abomination roaming the streets of Kirkwall."

He held her eyes for a long moment, then finally she nodded.

"I'll have your things sent to Hawke's," she said to Anders. "Try not to get in any more trouble for a bit, OK?"

Anders smiled, weakly. Could it be as easy as this? "I'll try," he said.

Afterwards, in the sunshine, away from the grizzly remains of Anders' victims, they let him sit down and clear out his mouth using Hawke's water flask.

"Why did you do that?" he asked Fenris.

The elf's face was unreadable. "Did I lie?"

"That was more than defence," Anders said. "That was... that..." It had been vengeance.

"You were drugged," he said. "You escaped. Don't think about anything else right now."

Not for the first time, Anders wished he were able to read Fenris better, but in truth he was too tired to dwell on it. Perhaps it was something he could ask Fenris about later.


End file.
